[She smiled, bright and warm as he pushed at her shoulder, and she reached up, pushing back playfully only to bump her shoulder back against his side after a moment. She wasn't shy about pushing back, but she liked this. The teasing, the contact. She wasn't a leader or teacher, he knew about her and despite literally pointing out that she could hurt people around her if she wasn't careful, he didn't handle her like he was at all afraid of the risk. And that was nice.] Oh yeah? That doesn't sound like a bad strategy, honestly. There's something about hitting things. But, y'know. It's more enjoyable when they hit back, punching bags just aren't quite the same. Though, maybe I should see how you stack up, one of these days.
[She was tactile, and that made fighting a thrill, the contact of it, touch, even if it was all violence, it still made her feel. But, as she'd said before, most people couldn't keep up. But Rumlow was good, and had size and build on her. And even if she was enhanced, it wasn't like she was Steve Rogers. So it'd be interesting to see how the variables played out. She had muscle memory and he had training. One way or the other it'd be enjoyable, she was sure. Someone she probably wouldn't have to pull her punches with. And the only time she really had that had been the rare times when Natasha stopped by and they could spar together, which was so infrequent to almost seem like a fever dream, sometimes.
She frowns a little, looking out toward the entrance of the cave where the white of the snow whips by, impossible to see much of anything except for the white as the winds pick up. She laughs a little as he implies that they might die out here, a slight shake of her head.] It's not going to kill us, promise. Can't last forever, and I have enough supplies for a while. Our biggest problem will be if we run out of fuel for the fire, once the temperature really starts to drop. And then I'll have to see if I can find something and hope the snow's cold enough that the wood isn't too wet to burn.
[There's only so much kindling and branches scattered around the cave, after all. She volunteers herself almost without thinking, knows she'll probably have an easier time with it if the temperatures start to drop below zero than he will. One of the other facets of being a Red Room girl, of being like Natasha. Hardy enough to handle those Siberian winters. But that's for later, assuming it doesn't blow over soon. It would shock her if she realized just how localized it was, but she hums in soft thought as he comments on the state of this world.] You're not wrong. It's like one of those 80s fantasy movies or something. Rival cities, kidnapping, magic.
[She makes a vague gesture with one of her hands; they've pretty much got the whole recipe. Well, aside from the space station in the sky aside, anyway, which was definitely more Science Fiction than anything. Then he brushes his knuckles against her jaw and she grins, elbows him lightly.] I think it was you. When you got me that hat? But it's a shame there's no baseball here. It'd be nice to have something normal, but the closest thing I've found to anything back home has been the dive bars.
no subject
[She was tactile, and that made fighting a thrill, the contact of it, touch, even if it was all violence, it still made her feel. But, as she'd said before, most people couldn't keep up. But Rumlow was good, and had size and build on her. And even if she was enhanced, it wasn't like she was Steve Rogers. So it'd be interesting to see how the variables played out. She had muscle memory and he had training. One way or the other it'd be enjoyable, she was sure. Someone she probably wouldn't have to pull her punches with. And the only time she really had that had been the rare times when Natasha stopped by and they could spar together, which was so infrequent to almost seem like a fever dream, sometimes.
She frowns a little, looking out toward the entrance of the cave where the white of the snow whips by, impossible to see much of anything except for the white as the winds pick up. She laughs a little as he implies that they might die out here, a slight shake of her head.] It's not going to kill us, promise. Can't last forever, and I have enough supplies for a while. Our biggest problem will be if we run out of fuel for the fire, once the temperature really starts to drop. And then I'll have to see if I can find something and hope the snow's cold enough that the wood isn't too wet to burn.
[There's only so much kindling and branches scattered around the cave, after all. She volunteers herself almost without thinking, knows she'll probably have an easier time with it if the temperatures start to drop below zero than he will. One of the other facets of being a Red Room girl, of being like Natasha. Hardy enough to handle those Siberian winters. But that's for later, assuming it doesn't blow over soon. It would shock her if she realized just how localized it was, but she hums in soft thought as he comments on the state of this world.] You're not wrong. It's like one of those 80s fantasy movies or something. Rival cities, kidnapping, magic.
[She makes a vague gesture with one of her hands; they've pretty much got the whole recipe. Well, aside from the space station in the sky aside, anyway, which was definitely more Science Fiction than anything. Then he brushes his knuckles against her jaw and she grins, elbows him lightly.] I think it was you. When you got me that hat? But it's a shame there's no baseball here. It'd be nice to have something normal, but the closest thing I've found to anything back home has been the dive bars.